THERE WILL BE A TEST LATER

He and his little brother appear to have a wonderful relationship. Despite the HUGE age difference between them. One of them is just so much older than the other. And already in first grade! The little brother is only two, and barely even speaks. Certainly something so queer as a kwailo talking Cantonese is startlingly new, but equally baffling are the unintelligible sounds coming out of his older brother's mouth.
The older brother speaks English.
How extremely peculiar!

But, if the older brother feels unthreatened by the freak, the younger one will relax, and come closer to investigate. I think he was peering up my nostrils and trying to count the hairs at one point. He's a very disarming little fellow, and I suspect both kids will do very well academically.
The younger one may end up in science.

While the two year old boy examined me from several different angles, his brother engaged me in conversation. Children, as you can surmise, have no very great depth but immediate interests. Unlike adults, they are capable of entertaining several perhaps not related themes at the same time.
As interlocutors, they can be quite the ticket.


The older one, at six years old, has a very well developed vocabulary in English, and insisted that we use that tongue. Although every time he didn't know what the correct word was, he said it in Cantonese (tobacco pipe = 煙斗 yin dou) . At one point he asked whether I like paktonggou, and spoke Potongwa and Spanish?

Yes, I like white sugar glutinous rice fudge. It's very tasty, and settles the stomach marvelously after drinking too much the previous evening (a datum which I did not mention), and although I can speak a little mandarin, his dad is far better at it. Spanish, no. Yo quero una burrito con carnitas y salsa picante, sin frijoles, por favor. No mas.

He disagreed. His dad clearly does NOT speak Potongwa better, because he sometimes says very BAD things. Especially if you touch his stuff.
And speaking of bad things, was I a good man, or a bad man?
Well, I think I'm good. Not everyone does.
Why?
Not everybody agrees about people.
Was I then a bad man?
No.
Why not?
Because I don't do bad things.
Ney yam jau? [你飲酒？]
Mow. Ngoh mow yam jau. [冇。我冇飲酒。]
Gam, ney sik yin ge me?!? [噉，食煙嘅咩！？！]

["Do you drink alcohol?" 'Nope. I don't drink.' "But but but, you smoke?!?"]

I know he's of two minds about the smoking, because his grandpapa smokes a pipe. Maybe his grandpapa also drinks whiskey on occasion.
I decided to change the subject at that point, as I had told a little white lie;
I do indeed drink. Most white people do, even if they don't smoke.

We only admit this on a need-to-know basis.
A six year old need not know.

He seemed to doubt my veracity, but then asked me if I spoke any other languages. I admitted to Dutch, and was promptly asked to demonstrate.
It sounded very foreign to him, was I perhaps European?
Well, no, I was born here.
He knew it!

He told me he wasn't born here, but his brother was. Which I already knew.
How did I know that? Because I've been coming here for over two years.
And, consequently, I can remember when his brother was still a baby.
Quite unlike the intellectually curious two year old he is today.

In any case, when I left, I had a firm invitation to come again, even if it's only for ten seconds, and even if I actually have to be in Marin that day. Never mind the hike, just come!
I'm sure his little brother agrees. The little fellow said 'bye bye' and gave me the most enchanting smile as he waved farewell.

I hope he remembers me when I return in a few weeks.

Both the six year old and the two year old are turning into fine young men.
Despite the shrieking auntie who desperately tried to reign them in earlier, and make them eat their lunch. And stop pulling their cousin's hair, even though she minded not a bit. Girl, shut up and eat your damned rice!
I was extremely happy when the auntie finally left.
Her angry shouting disturbed my own meal.
She's a frantic sort, easily bent out.
Probably not good with kids.

Smoking does NOT automatically mean that you drink, or are a bad man. Just so you know.

Despite what you may have heard.




AFTERTHOUGHT ONE: the six-year correctly guessed my age. Which is VERY irritating. But on the plus side, he assumed that I was still in high-school. Which is very good.

AFTERTHOUGH TWO: "gam chaau-chaau naau-naau jan hai yiu ge me? Yau pin-go sei-jo nei gam taai-seng chau kwai kiu ah? Haak-sei ngo ah!"
咁吵吵鬧鬧眞係要嘅咩？有邊個死咗你噉大聲臭鬼叫啊？嚇死我吖！
'Is such a frightful racket really necessary? Who the hell died that you should yell so? You're scaring me half to death!'
This is what I felt like saying to the bad-tempered auntie, except that I had no confidence I could've uttered all of it without bollicksing-up the tones and pronunciation to a fare-thee-well. Too tense for that.
One of these days, though, one of these days.
Need more practice speaking.


Eh, probably wouldn't do it even if I could.
It would be very forward and brassy.
Might be considered rude.
Far better not.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================